All language subtitles for SLC Punk! (1998).eng

The thing about me and Bob,
and pretty much all of us, was...

we hated rednecks
more than anything else, period.

Because rednecks for us
were America incarnate.

And America? Huh.
Well, fuck America!

So, hey,
what do you wanna do now?

Let's score. I gotta get some pelt
tonight or my balls are gonna drop off.

I hear that.

Come on, cowboy!

Come on!

What can I say? We weren't much more
than a couple of young punks.

Good morning, Bob.
Rise and shine.

It's a beautiful fucking day.

All right.

Two more hours.

But that's it.

To be an anarchist in Salt Lake City
was certainly no easy task...

especially in 1985.

And having no money, no job...

no plans for the future...

the true anarchist position was,
in itself, a strenuous job.

And our tribe was small.
I mean, at the center was me, Stevo...

and Bob, my roommate...
Heroin Bob.

Oh, Bob didn't really do heroin.
In fact, he hated needles.

Bob's irrational fear of needles...

was in contrast to everything
you'd think about the guy.

I mean, to look at him, you'd think
he was a madman, which he was.

But he was also one
of the most uptight guys I've ever met.

He didn't do anything
about the cut on his hand... nothing.

I mean, absolutely nothing.
He just wrapped it up...

in a dirty old T-shirt,
and he left it like that for weeks.

Is he gonna be okay?

Oh, yeah. He'll be fine.
I'm sure. Thank you, though.

Hi, how are we doing?

Okay. Can I take a look at that?

Okay. All right.

Oh, what the heck did we do here?

I think that wound's
the most infected thing I've ever seen.

I hate doctors, man.
I hate 'em.

Well, you're lucky those boys
brought you here.

Okay? Because without me
you'd be dead.

Patty, we need
a gram of amoxicillin.

That's a nasty cut you've got there.
How did you manage that?

I fell off my bike.

Oh, sweetheart, I'm sorry.
Does it still hurt?

- That's a nice kid.
- Yeah, sad, really.

- How's that?
- Kids.

There's not much future
for 'em, hmm?

We all die, Stevo.

That's true.
Very true, Mike.

No, no! No, I'm fine! I'm fine!

Get that fucking needle
away from me, man!

No, I don't do needles!
Get off me! Get off!

Goddamn it! No! No!

You pack of murderers! No!

No needles!

Help me! Help me!
No, no, please!

So Heroin Bob was named as such
'cause he was afraid of needles.

But not just needles.
The guy was afraid of drugs too.

We couldn't even get him
to take a damn aspirin.

He drank, and he smoked cigarettes
but that's it. He'd say...

You know that shit you guys do?
You're fucking yourselves up, man.

Fucking acid. Acid.
It never leaves your body.

It's in your fuckin'
spinal cord forever.

Let me tell you something
about the nature of chemicals, man.

You know that dude Napoleon?

He was banished to an island
when the French got sick of him.

That's right. He supposedly died
of stomach problems, right?

Wrong. He was actually poisoned
over a long period of time.

Murdered by arsenic,
a preservative.

- And you know how?
- No idea.

- His hair.
- His hair?

His fuckin' hair.
It was arsenic.

You could tell how long
he was being poisoned...

by following the traces
of poison up his hair.

Dude, dude, dude, if you do
enough hits of it, you're dead.

- It really makes you think, doesn't it?
- Think what?

That chemistry's the wrong
fucking major for a guy like you.

- It's the wrong major, Bob.
- You should lay off the acid anyways!

- You heard about Sean, right?
- No, what happened to Sean?

You know he was selling acid, right?

No, man. I told you $25, man.
$25. It's inflation.

Shit's getting expensive, man.

- Thanks, man.
- No problem.

- Nice spikes.
- Nice fuckin' suit.

Let me ask you something, Sean.

What the fuck
did you become a punk for?

Hey, man. Come on. The kid wants
to be a punk, let him be a punk.

You see, Russ.

Mods are pussies, man.
That shit's fuckin' dead.

If we catch you out tonight,
we're kickin' your ass.

- Come on. He's all right.
- Kickin' my ass? Kick my ass?

- Come on. Let's go.
- Get on your bikes and ride away.

- Hey, fuck you!
- No, thanks, sweetheart. All right.

Your mom's driving us
to soccer practice?

- 4:00.
- You guys enjoy.

So Sean puts all this acid
in his pocket, and the school cop...

- Where was this?
- Southeast High, man.

So he takes off running...

and he's running through
the track field...

and the sprinklers are on.

So the water
soaks through his pants...

and melts the acid
which went through his pants...

onto the skin on his leg.

So you know,
over a hundred hits of acid...

dissolved into Sean's leg.

Fried him.

So I went to see him
a week later.

It had just snowed,
and he was sitting outside in the cold.

What are you doin' outside, man?

Are you him?

- Yeah, I'm him.
- Jesus!

Have I sinned,
or am I going to heaven?

You're fryin', man.

- How much acid did you take?
- Wait. You're not Jesus.

- You're Bob.
- I'm Bob! How goes it?

- How are you doing that?
- Doin' what?

Walkin' on water. If I get off this
chair, I'll drown. Wanna know why?

- 'Cause I can't swim.
- Oh, I get it.

So, Sean,
do you see land anywhere?

Just water.

- Say, Bob?
- Yeah.

You are Jesus.

That's right. I am.
Why do you ask?

Satan is in the house.

He killed my mom...

and turned her into a bull.

Oh, I didn't hear you come in!

- What? What?
- Come here.

I gotta kill her!

Okay! Hold still!

Put your hands in the air
and slowly turn around.

- I'm saved! I'm saved!
- Put your hands up!

Yeah, sure, Sean.
You're saved.

I said put your hands in the air.

Chemicals, man.
They'll fuck you up.

I always wondered what happened
to that crazy little shit.

It's a crazy fucked-up world...

and we're all just barely
floatin' along...

waitin' for somebody
that can walk on water.

Bob was like that...

a real asshole when it came
to reading into things.

He liked to wrap things up into neat
little packages that implied the world.

See, Sean was fucked up.

Not the world.
The world was just confused.

And not the world, really.
Just the people in it.

Bob was confused.
And more, Bob was paranoid as fuck.

That's right.
Bob was in quarantine.

The doctor said that Bob's infection
was so bad...

that it had become a lethal virus.

And so he was under quarantine
for some weeks.

It was the beginning of the fall
and the rest of our lives.

We both graduated college
and were taking summer classes...

a major feat, since our aim in college
was to be as destructive as possible.

Our mission, after leaving high school
as two aspiring young punks...

I think the only two punks
in Salt Lake City at the time...

was to go to university
and bring down the system.

Why? Well, for obvious reasons.

Anarchy... the only system of government
that seemed to make any sense to us.

And the irony was we had made it
through. I did well, even.

My father was hell-bent on getting me to
go to Harvard Law School, like he did.

My father tried to get me to go
right after I graduated high school.

Thank you for giving us
an hour of your time.

Your mother and I found this
to be rather important.

You finished high school.

Thank God.
And now it's your time to do good.

This rebellion thing
you're going through, I understand it.

Not completely,
but I respect it.

Now you should think about
what is right for you.

I mean, be free, darling, always.

Yeah. Be practical, Steve.

You got a chance to go to Harvard.
You've got me as an alumnus.

- That can't hurt.
- But only if it makes you happy.

Look, if you want to rebel there,
you can do it. I went to Woodstock.

Me and the guys had a lot of fun.
We did our thing there.

We got behind some causes, though.

We fought for some
very strong causes.

We ended, collectively,
we ended that goddamn war in 'Nam...

so that guys like you
could be free.

There's all these possibilities
for you, Steven. Carry the torch now.

Okay? I can see by looking at you
that you're ready.

- I'm proud that you're an individual.
- Very proud.

So proud.

One thing.

This may not be easy to hear,
but the hair.

Maybe tone it down a bit.
The whole thing that you're doing.

In my day, it was long hair,
beatniks, paisley.

You know. That stuff.

Not like that kind of thing.
This whole thing you're doing...

this statement about
the American Indian...

I'm baffled.
And not just me.

A regular guy in the street's
gonna be baffled too.

And we're hip, we're cool.

It's just those guys on the east coast
are never gonna get it.

They're not gonna get this
in New York.

- Darling, we sound like our parents.
- Yeah.

- It's difficult, dear.
- We just want to support you.

A hundred percent. Take the ball
and run with it. Make a difference.

But always with love.
Remember that, Steven.

- Always with love.
- Oh, time out.

I just want to ask real quick,
if I can.

You believe in rebellion,
freedom and love, right?

- Absolutely. Yes.
- Rebellion, freedom, love.

You two are divorced,
so love failed.

Two: Mom, you're a New Ager, clinging to
any kind of scrap of eastern religion...

that may justify
why the above said love failed.

Three: Dad, you're a slick,
corporate, preppy-ass lawyer.

I don't really have to say
anything else about you, do I?

Four: You moved
from New York City...

the Mecca and hub of the cultural world,
to Utah... nowhere...

to change nothing...
more to perpetuate...

this cycle of money, greed,
fascism and triviality.

Your movement of, by and for the people
got you nothing.

You just hide behind some lost sense
of drugs, sex, rock and roll.

Ooh, Kumbaya.

I am the future.
I am the future of this great nation...

which you, Father,
so arrogantly saved this world for.

Look. I have my own agenda.

Harvard, out.
University of Utah, in.

I'm going to get a 4.0 in damage.
I love you guys.

Don't get me wrong.
It's all about this.

But for the first time
in my life, I'm 18...

and I can say, "Fuck you!"

Steven, I didn't sell out, son.
I bought in.

Keep that in mind.

That kid is gonna make
one hell of a lawyer, huh?

Yeah, he takes after his father.

He's a son of a bitch.

Fuck you, dear.

And now, four years later,
I was a college graduate.

We did what we could to fuck things up,
but the system is strong...

and they were many
and we were still few.

But this fall
was gonna be the fall, all right.

Bob and the rest of us had made an oath
to do absolutely nothing.

We were gonna waste our educated minds.
We had no other way of fighting.

As I said,
there just weren't enough of us.

Sure, there was a lot more punks
than there was four years earlier...

but there was also as many posers.

Posers were people that looked like
punks, but they did it for fashion.

And they were fools.
They'd say, "Anarchy in the U.K."

You see? Posers.
"Anarchy in the U.K."

What the fuck's that?

What good is that to those of us
in Utah, America?

It was a Sex Pistols thing, right? They
were from England. They were British.

That's what they did. They were allowed
to go on about anarchy in the U.K.

You don't live your life by lyrics.

I mean, that's all you ever heard
from these trendy fucks.

Like, "Did you hear the new
Smiths album? It's fuckin' terrif. "

Kids walking around Utah saying "terrif"
with a stupid old English twang.

See what I mean? What the fuck's up
with the England bullshit?

You know Jag? He's a fag.

I knew a girl who'd only have sex
with a guy if he had a fucking accent.

Can you think of anything
more ludicrous?

So every asshole
in Salt Lake City...

and let me tell you, plenty of assholes
in this general region...

that wanted to do some of this,
would get her drunk...

and put on some kind
of stupid accent...

like, "Hey, mistress,
do you fancy a shag?"

And there she would...
fucking knees in the sky.

It was sad. It made me really sad.
Poor girl had no self-respect.

To me, England was nothing more
than a big American state...

like North Dakota or Canada.

You gotta look at me and say, "Hey,
why are you so mad?" And I'll tell you.

'Cause for all the fawning that
went over the English bands in S.L. C...

those fuckin' English chaps
could only say shit about us Americans.

All we were to them
was a bunch of hicks.

Well, you know what?
I'm not a fuckin' hick!

I don't wear cowboy boots.
I hate the fuckin' rodeo.

Horses smell like shit to me...

and I don't fuck anyone
in my own bloodline.

By definition, I'm not a redneck,
and I ain't a fuckin' hick.

Oh, the sun never sets
on the British empire.

Well, the sun never sets
on my asshole!

Another thing that pissed me off,
talking about who started punk rock.

Was it Sex Pistols in England?

Was it the Ramones
and the Velvet Underground in New York?

Is it the Ramones?
Is it the Sex Pistols?

Who cares who started it?
It's music.

I don't know who started it,
and I don't give a fuck.

The one thing I do know
is that we did it harder...

goddamn it, we did it faster, and we
definitely did it with more love, baby!

You can't take that away from us.

Exhibit A.

It's my only exhibit,
really, but, you know what?

I think it's pretty fuckin' good.

Fuck off and die.

One of these days it's got to go
One of these days I'm comin' out slow

One of these days we'll all be bored
One of these days I'm comin' out strong

One of these days it's got to go
One of these days I'm comin' out strong

One of these days, yeah

If you were a fuckin' man,
you'd fuck me here!

I said if you were a fuckin' man,
you'd fuck me here, right here, now!

Fuckers.

Hey, wasn't she with you?

- Who?
- Um, Sandy.

Last week, dude.

We hung out, but nobody's anybody's.
Anyway, I got my eye on Trish.

Hey, where is Trish?
I have to talk to her.

She's setting up for the after party
for the band.

Hey, isn't Trish,
like, 30-somethin'?

Yeah, dude.
She's fuckin' smart as hell too.

I can listen to her talk for,
like, hours.

Yeah. That's good for you
'cause all she ever does is talk.

I see Stevo
is getting along tonight.

I gotta do somethin'.

So, Mark,
how are you doin', old man?

Fuck!

I'm not old, motherfucker.

Oh, no. I just... You know, I mean,
you're older than anyone else here.

It depends on how you look at it.

I'm young in my heart...

younger than any of these sad souls
over there.

You know, Bob...
he's always looking for pain.

That's why I don't understand
you Americans.

You're always looking for pain.

Yeah, well, you know what?
It pains me to hear you say that, Mark.

It really does.

Hold these.

More pain you're looking for?

No, I have to go take care
of something.

- Hey, that's Bob!
- What?

Yeah, Bob!

The police. What an untidy group
of little fascists.

What do you expect
in a town of God?

Mormons run the state, and that
is the state of things, I'm afraid.

Listen, poser.

Let me just explain this to you.

It was my instinct to react that way
because you punched my friend.

I'm the bouncer for the band.
It's my job.

Yes, but this is a punk show.

And mayhem and punk shows...
It's like peas and carrots.

It's common for a guy to jump on stage,
and then he jumps right off again.

Look. I'm really sorry
about the beating...

and I hope the rest of your stay
in America is more pleasant.

- You're under arrest, son.
- For selling pot?

- It's harmless, you know.
- No, the pot's fine.

However, this shirt happens to be
illegal in several states.

I see.
It should be a torn shirt, huh?

With a picture of Ronald Reagan on it,
maybe with a bullet hole in his head?

- That would be more punk?
- Yeah. You're a good man, Mark.

We need more men like you
in America.

I rest easier
now that you say this.

- Eddie.
- Bobby.

- Hey. Fuck you, man.
- Hey.

- Hey, you're that singer dude.
- Hey.

- So, what did you think? Good show?
- I'll never play this town again, mate.

It's too tame for you British types?

- No, it's too bleedin' violent.
- Thank you.

Come with me.
I've got something to show you.

So here's this band.

E.C.P., Extreme Corporal Punishment.

One of the toughest,
most hard-core bands in the U.K.

Good band as well. They come to Salt
Lake City. They think it's too tough.

An 18-year-old punk beat the shit out of
their bouncer. I rest my case on this.

In a country of lost souls...

rebellion comes hard...

but in a religiously oppressive city...

which half its population
isn't even of that religion...

it comes like fire.

You're here to visit?

Yes. I think we're all excited
to see how he's doing.

Have you seen The Exorcist?

- Yeah.
- Did you like it?

Yeah. Is this dangerous?

Not clinically.

What does that mean?

- Jesus!
- Hey, Bob.

Are you alive?

I want a cigarette, man.

I want to get out of here.

Listen, buddy.
We've got good news.

They say today's gonna be
your last day.

- Today?
- Today.

Thank God!
These doctors can kiss my ass!

Knock it off, tough guy,
or I'll give you another shot.

That woman fucking hates me, man.

What's with the tape?

Don't tell me you're going poser on me,
you big loser.

No, dude. I'm going crazy, man.
How long have I been in here?

- Three weeks.
- Oh, my God!

- Anyone come visit you?
- No, no. Just you. Just you guys.

You did. I've been quarantined, man.
They named a disease after me.

- You are a disease.
- Uh, what about your father, Bob?

- What about my father?
- I just thought... He didn't...

Oh, no. He didn't come.
He's drunk, you know.

But I'm free, huh? I'm free.

You know, I loved the guy.

Now the fall of hate
could really get started.

The first order of business,
we threw a party at our apartment.

This is, like, the first party
of the fall, right?

The whole tribe's here.
Everyone's in the house.

Let me make introductions.

You remember Bob, of course. He's...

Hey, stop fuckin' with that stereo!

He's also one of the hosts.
It's his fucking stereo.

And this... Oh, my God.
This is Trish.

She's, like, a Bohemian queen.

She is the goddess of the scene.
Everybody really wants her.

Hey, come on.
Let's keep going.

Now stay close
'cause I don't know everyone here.

There's a lot of posers.

Oh, this kid, though.
This kid, he's not a fuckin' poser.

He's not a poser.
He looks like a total nerd, right?

This guy looks like a geek,
but his name's Mike.

He's one of the most hard-core guys
in the scene.

Well, watch what happens.
Stay where you are. I'll be right back.

This is great.
It's my favorite part.

You see what I mean?
Punk rock!

It's punk rock!

The party's in full swing.
Let's continue.

Hey, Mark, how's it rollin'?

Rolling fine.

- Here. It's on me.
- For me?

But be careful.
That stuff can make you stupid.

Fuck you!

More stupid than you already are.

Hey, this is Mark.
Now, Mark is not a punk rocker.

Why, he's nothing, really.
He's not even a peer.

But everybody knew him,
and all the tribes love him...

because he always had pot and acid.

What this crazy foreign fuck was doing
behind this Iron Curtain, I had no idea.

I don't think anyone in Utah
really knew...

but we did know that he was rich,
loaded with killer bud...

and completely out
of his fuckin' mind.

Now, Mark was rich, but not because
he was a pusher, which he really wasn't.

He was independently wealthy.

His whole family died in a plane crash
over in Europe when he was five.

The thing was,
he liked to buy stuff and show it off.

His bank account bulged
from the insurance off the crash.

So you'd have to sit through
some bullshit if you wanted to score...

because the one thing about Mark,
he loved company.

This looks like a silver record,
but it's not a silver record.

It's a laser disc.

This one is a water bed.

But it's not a normal water bed,
because a normal one goes like this.

Lots of waves. Funny thing is,
this one doesn't have any waves.

Well, why didn't you just buy
a normal mattress...

that doesn't have waves?

This one doesn't have waves.

See, it also comes in silver, but
I bought black because it looks cooler.

- Yeah, but...
- This is the masterpiece.

It has one, two, three,
four, five, six, seven...

Seven settings
for optimum comfort...

all of which
I will gladly show you now.

It has this projector in the back.

Five thousand bucks. I mean,
you can buy a fucking car for that.

This thing here
has a little platinum thing.

There's a movie on there.

And so it never,
never ever gets dirty.

I never buy records. I only buy CDs
'cause they sound much better.

- That's great.
- Hey, there's more.

- A lot more?
- Much more!

Wake up.

It was a character flaw, sure,
but we all have those.

This part didn't concern me.
The main problem with Mark...

was that he was intimidating,
and he had a tendency to snap.

He was always afraid
of getting ripped off...

yet at the same time, he ripped things
off without shame or guilt.

Chaos in man, although hopeful...

could also be, you know,
a little tiresome.

I had two bags of grass
in this kitchen.

They are always trying to stiff me,
you know?

- Who is?
- Who?

Who? Everybody.

You know I give to everybody, Stevo.
You know that.

And they just go ahead
and try to take whatever they want.

It makes me want to kill...

which I've done in the past,
believe me.

I'm not saying
it makes me a man or anything.

I'm just passing on the information.

When did you kill?

In Miami I shot two men.

Why do you think I'm here?
'Cause I love this place?

Salt Lake Shitty?

They tried to rob me,
so I shot them in the head.

You have to put at least one bullet
in the head just to make sure.

Get out of here.
Come on.

You didn't kill anybody.
Fuck you.

You don't believe me, huh?

Well...

- Hey.
- With this.

You want to be a cowboy,
I show you cowboy.

Come on. Just put that thing away.
I hate those things.

Put it away.
I get the joke. Now put it away.

When I was a kid,
my family died in a crash.

- I know.
- You know?

My mother told us to buckle up because
things were going to get bumpy...

so I did.

I looked at her, and she smiled.

And then like this, boom,
the plane was going down.

My dad was next to the pilot,
and he told us not to worry.

But, hey, even at five I knew we had
trouble because the pilot was crying.

So I looked at my sister. She was like,
"Oh, man. We're getting close. "

So I looked at my mom again,
and she smiled at me again...

and so this time I smiled.

And then we hit the ground...

and something
came through that plane...

and cut my mother's head off.

So now this head
was flying straight at me...

and she never took her eyes
off of me.

That's when I passed out.

And when I woke up,
my family was all around me in pieces.

I saw my mother's arm,
my sister's leg...

my brother's head...

but I couldn't find my father.

I wanted to, though...

'cause I was going to kick
his fuckin' dead body.

'Cause he lied.

You know what
I'm trying to tell you, Stevo?

It's so easy,
so easy to get it taken away from you.

And they try...
every chance they get, they try.

It's bad.

I mean, it's really bad.

Do you trust Bob?

Bob? Yeah.

I think he might
have taken my stuff.

Well, he's asleep.

What about when we were upstairs?

He could have taken it then.

Right. Well, I don't think so.

I mean, it's not like Bob.
He's not a thief.

How do you know? You know what?
I think we should ask him.

No. Hey, Mark. Wait.

Hey, Mark. Come on.
Just chill out, man.

- Oh, Jesus. Hey, wake up.
- Hey, you!

Get up. You have my shit!

Put that shit away
before I kick your ass, man.

Are you all right?

Get off my back!
I don't want to hurt you!

Come here!

- What? What?
- Come on. Empty your pockets.

- This is fucking uncool, Mark!
- We'll see about cool in a minute.

All right. See,
he doesn't have anything. I told you.

- Shut up! Man!
- That's it, dude.

I'm sorry.

- You're sorry?
- Yeah, I just thought you had my shit.

Well, fuck you, man!

Hey, don't say that, fuck you.
I said I'm sorry.

- No, fuck you!
- I said sorry!

- Come on, Bob. You're like my brother.
- No. Get away.

- All right. I'm not mad. Yeah.
- You're my friend, huh?

- Give me a kiss.
- All right.

Here you go.

Hey, did I scare you?

It didn't scare me.

It was a joke, you know.

- That's funny.
- Yeah. Okay.

- Good one, buddy.
- Okay.

- You shot the couch.
- You know what? I buy a new one.

- Oh, there you go.
- I say we go out and steal a car, huh?

- All right.
- Okay? Let's go.

Punk rock. Maybe you should
just leave the gun, though.

So Mark and Bob made up
'cause that's just how Mark was.

What could you do?
Later he stole a car.

Not that he needed a car.
He already had, like, three cars.

But I guess fun is fun.

We drove around for a while,
got stoned... me and Mark.

Bob just drank beers.

We talked and listened to Mark's
nonsense theories about everything.

You know what the funny thing is
about Ronald Reagan?

Actually, it's not that funny because
the poor guy has only one testicle left.

- No shit.
- It's true. I saw a picture once.

- Fuck, dude!
- That explains a lot.

Ronnie.

The world has no way to clean itself.
That's why there is so much dust.

There is this underground road,
and it leads from Texas to D.C.

You know what?
They smuggle UFOs through there.

It's a bad thing.

Unidentified flying objects?

Did you know
that dolphins are man-evolved?

Did you know that?

I saw once a half-dolphin,
half-man in Greece.

And as the night closed,
Mark decided to dump the stolen car.

You know, evidence.

Sink.

Sink, you fool!

Hey, why won't she sink?

Well, it's 'cause
it's the Great Salt Lake.

- And?
- Yeah, dude. There's salt in it.

It's, like,
the saltiest lake in the world.

- It makes things buoyant, you know?
- Buoyant. It floats.

You've gotta be kidding me.

Sink, you fool!

You fuckin' stupid
bastard lake! Sink!

- What are you trying to do to me?
- All right. Okay. No, no, no.

- That's okay. Let's go home.
- Guys!

I'm not done with you!

But when all was said and done,
Mark was an okay guy...

and an evening with him
was proof of anarchy.

So we accepted him,
and he came to our parties.

Hey, I'll catch you later,
all right?

Not if I see you first.

- I know what you're talking about.
- Excuse me. Can I get through?

- Hey, Jen!
- Oh, I love your house.

Thank you.
Hey, lookit, Jennifer. Lookit.

This is Jennifer.
She's 17. She looks a lot older.

She looks older 'cause this lifestyle
really hardens you.

It takes the piss out of you.
And she's got this brother...

Easy over there!
She's got this brother named Chris.

He's this death rock punk guy,
and he's, like...

I don't know why I'm telling you
about him 'cause you'll meet him later.

Now this girl...
absolutely beautiful, sweet as pie...

is the greatest child
God ever put on this earth...

but you do not wanna mess with her
when she hasn't had her medication...

in a dark, deserted alley.

She will, I repeat,
she will rip your head off.

This girl is a carnivore.

Look. Carnivore.
Be careful.

Who else can I introduce you to?

- Unbelievable!
- Oh, yeah, baby.

This is Sandy. Oh, my God, Sandy.
I like Sandy.

Now, Sandy has nothing to do
with anarchy in general.

She's just a beautiful,
wonderful, funny, witty...

loving, sexy, tough-as-nails,
a little weird girl...

and I absolutely adore her.

I like Sandy a lot.

This is John the mod.
Now, mods aren't punks.

We get in a lot of spats with mods,
actually, but he's okay.

He's one of those kind of guys
goes in between the tribes freely.

Like a diplomat.

- Gandhi!
- He always brings gifts.

- Where'd you get the beer?
- Wyoming. Where else?

This actually needs some explanation.
Beers in supermarkets in Utah is weak.

Three points instead of
the normal six points of alcohol.

It's the religious influence,
and it's a pain in the ass.

To me, it makes no sense. If you've got
alcohol, you've got alcohol.

So why three instead of six?

You know a drunk's just gonna drink
twice as many beers to get drunk.

So not only do you have a drunk
on your hands...

but you got a drunk
who's fat and gross.

There's nothing worse. So if you want
real beer, you have two choices:

A, the state-run liquor store.

You see,
you can buy regular beer here.

There are all of three stores
in Salt Lake City to buy it.

And their hours suck. Oppression.

Also, these were the only places to buy
any alcohol outside of private clubs.

Who can afford those,
except for guys like my dad?

Don't. Quit it. Stop.
Knock it off. Come on. Don't do that.

So what do they call you?
Do you have a nickname?

- Ah, they do. Yeah.
- TLM?

- The long man?
- Third leg material?

You could get whiskey, gin, wine.

Here's where they kept it.
And here's the worst part.

IDs, boys.

See, this teller
is not just a teller.

He's a cop. This guy right there,
he's a fucking cop.

So we buy a beer, and this guy's
callin' a squad car to follow us home.

'Cause one look at us, and he knows,
"Gosh, those guys are gonna be trouble. "

Now, Bob and I may not be innocent...

but we are usually
pretty law-abiding, usually.

On this occasion,
we had done absolutely nothing wrong.

We looked suspicious, yes,
but in all the years of pre-law...

I uncovered a lot of contradictions
in the system...

but I had found nothing
that told me looking suspicious...

was a crime in and of itself.

Come on.
Just give me a shot.

- Okay?
- There you go! Come on.

But this was not about the law.
This was about rednecks.

So the battle continued.
Who's to blame 'em?

The cops were rednecks,
our mortal enemies...

worse than mods, rockers or posers.

So we took our beatings when we could.

But in this complex world of fascism
that was Utah state policy...

we had only one choice
if we wanted real beer.

Choice B, Wyoming.

The state line
was one hour and one half...

a short ride to Evingston, Wyoming...

where you could get booze
like a free man...

like boozers used to go to Canada
for the poison during Prohibition.

So we rode that morning
before the party with Eddie.

Eddie wasn't an anarchist.
He wasn't really even a punk.

Eddie was into women.

But not in a macho, jerky kind of way.
He was a true romantic.

He had his ass beat several times
for being gay, which he was not.

Imagine.
Fag-bashed without the benefits.

I couldn't give a shit what the rednecks
in this town think about me.

I know I'm not gay. Ladies know I'm not.
I have no problem with gay guys.

As a matter of fact, they are
some of the coolest guys I know.

The only reason
half these guys start shit...

it's not because they wanna fight me.

It's 'cause they wanna fuck me.

I don't know, man.

If somebody called me somethin'
that I wasn't, I could see getting mad.

The problem with somebody
giving you shit about being gay...

it's not that they're wrong about you,
it's that they're giving you shit.

- Get it?
- So do you like this music, man?

Yeah. It rocks.

- I think it's for posers.
- Well, I think you're a fag.

- Fuck you.
- Fuck yourself. You'll get more pussy.

If looking the way we did in Utah
was unusual...

in Wyoming, affectionately
called the Cowboy State...

we were fucking aliens.

What the hell are you?

We come from the east
in search of the Messiah.

We followed that big star.

Yeah, we bring gold
and frankincense.

- Myrrh.
- Myrrh.

- You do what?
- Followed the star.

Oh, my God. Who let you boys
out of the state institute?

We'd better get you boys
back in the hospital.

No. It's all right, man.

We're from England.

- England?
- Yeah.

That's right. That's probably why
we seem so weird to you, man.

England, huh?

Well, that explains it, I guess.

You boys enjoying your stay here
in the good ol' U.S. Of A.?

Sure thing.
It's a great land.

- What the hell is that?
- It's all right, Mother.

They're from England.

Oh, that figures, don't it?

What the hell did they do
to your hair?

My God,
you look like a gol-durned Indian!

It was a medical experiment,
but he's gonna be okay.

You poor boy.

That's how come
there's so many floods and earthquakes.

There is a curse on the land.

- The end is at hand.
- That's so true.

Excuse me, ma'am, but there have been
floods and earthquakes...

since the beginning of time, dude.

That is so, but never have so many
of Satan's followers...

been amassed on the Earth
as there are now.

And the Scripture states clearly...

that Satan's followers
will be in the majority...

and then God
will raise His head...

and fire will spew
from His snout...

and vengeance will burn
in His eyes.

You have not seen such fury
like the wrath of God.

So you guys have lots
of devil worshipers around these parts?

Oh, more than ever.
They bear the mark.

- Amen.
- Well, what about World War II?

The Nazis were as good as Satan's army,
and the world didn't end then.

Yeah, dude.
What about the Nazis?

I don't see Nazis
as devil worshipers.

Oh, you don't?

I see 'em more like
a gathering of people.

What? What did...

What's this about a mark?
You guys said something about a mark.

666.

The mark will be on all of them.

- The mark. Father!
- Oh, my God!

- I fear you, Father!
- Oh, my God!

- My padre!
- Oh, my God!

Oh, shit!

- Go, go, go!
- Told you those boys were trouble.

Oh, shit!

The Wyoming folk...
Well, they were okay, I guess.

Just confused like the rest of us.

But Nazis always pissed us off.
There were a few Nazi punks in town.

I don't know what these guys wanted.
They had the shaved heads and arm bands.

Rebellion is one thing.
That I understood.

But there are some things
that are just sacred.

Not to mention that anarchy,
a systemless society that I wanted...

no government, no rules... that was
the complete opposite of Nazi fascism.

So we kicked the shit out of these kids
every chance we could.

And that was that.

Hi, my name's Eddie.

You exist in a world of dreams, Bob.

You know, I was just sitting over there
in that chair in the corner.

I didn't really feel the particular urge
to talk to anybody...

and then I saw you
walk in the room.

You are like a treasure.

I have found a treasure.

Something came over me... this urge
to come over here and talk to you.

I am Aladdin,
and this is my lamp.

I wished for you,
and here you are.

You're like a poet, dude.

No, it's you who are the poet.

Your face is like Ginsberg...

or Wilde or even Hawthorne.

Great fucking party! Fuck, yeah!

What are you?

I'm an ant
staring up at a human being.

I wait with great intensity
to be squashed by you.

You want to...
Who the fuck threw that?

Great fuckin' party!

The fight. What does it mean,
and where does it come from? An essay.

Homo sapiens. A man.

He is alone in the universe.

A punker. Still a man.

He is alone in the universe.

But he connects. How?

They hit each other. Ooh!

No clearer way to evaluate
whether or not you're alive.

Now, complications.

A reason to fight:
Somebody different.

Difference creates dispute.

Dispute is a reason to fight.

Now, to fight is a reason to feel pain.
Life is pain.

So to fight, with reason...

is to be alive with reason.

Final analysis.
To fight: A reason to live.

Problems and contradictions:
I am an anarchist.

I believe that there should be
no rules, only chaos.

Fighting appears to be chaos, and when
we slam in a pit at a show, it is.

But when we fight for a reason,
like rednecks, there is a system.

We fight for what we stand for... chaos.
But fighting is a structure.

Fighting is to establish power,
power is government...

and government is not anarchy.

Government is war,
and war is fighting.

The circle goes like this:
Our redneck skirmishes...

are cheaper versions
of conventional warfare.

War implies extreme government...

because wars are fought to
enforce rules or ideals, even freedom.

But other people's ideals
forced on someone else...

even if it is something like freedom,
is still a rule.

Not anarchy.

This contradiction was becoming
clear to me in the fall of '85.

Even as early as my first party,
why did I love to fight?

I framed it,
but I still don't understand it.

It goes against my beliefs
as a true anarchist, but there it was.

Competition, fighting, capitalism...

government, the system.

It's what we always did.

Rednecks kicked the shit out of punks,
punks kicked the shit out of mods...

mods kicked the shit out of skinheads,
skinheads took out the metal guys...

the metal guys beat the living shit
out of new wavers...

and the new wavers did nothing...
they were the new hippies.

What was the point?
Final summation?

None.

So I'll just close up
if you guys give me a second.

Dude, she's, like, responsible,
you know?

She's a businesswoman.
She owns her own store.

She's making a contribution
to society.

Bob, she owns a head shop.
She sells bongs, Bob.

- No, no, no. It's not what you sell.
- Blah, blah, blah.

Why do you got to be so cynical?
Why don't you grow up?

You bitch!

- Hey, Mark.
- Hey. Great party last week.

- We aim to please.
- Animals.

I've always loved animals.

It was a little violent
at the end.

Violent.
Look who's talking, Mr. NRA.

- What are you doing here?
- Actually, I came by to say I'm off.

- Where are you going?
- I'm going to Miami.

- What the hell is in Miami?
- Hell is in Miami.

Don't worry. I'll be back.
You can always count on that.

Why would you ever come back
to a place like this, man?

It's like any other place, Bob...
people, houses, roads, cars.

What else do you think
is out there?

- Freedom.
- Yeah.

Freedom.

It's not out there.

Freedom is another way
of saying "death. "

Know what I mean?

You're pretty fuckin' weird, man.
You know that?

- I'm off.
- All right, man. See ya.

Hey, Mark,
if you ever get lonely...

or if you ever need someone
to talk to...

Bob's there for you.

- Fuck you!
- And that was the last we saw of Mark.

Never came back from Florida,
if that was where he was going.

Rumor flew around...

that he had died in a plane crash like
he was supposed to all those years ago.

Anyways, that was Salt Lake.
People came in, and they went out.

Oh, no.

Fuck you.

So, Trish, are we hangin' out later?

I'll tell you what, Bob.
You're coming with me.

- I am?
- That's right.

- I own you now.
- Oh, yeah. That's right.

I forgot to tell you.
I sold myself to Trish for 36 bucks.

Thirty-six bucks.
Wow, Trish, that's a good deal.

Salt Lake City.

Land of the dead sea.

Zion, as the Mormons call it.

It really is the holy land.

See you, Stevo.

You can't afford me, old man.

- How are things going these days?
- Not so bad.

- How are the ladies treatin' ya?
- The ladies?

I tell you, the women in this town
are so miserable...

I'd give anything
to get the hell out.

You know, you gave up a good thing
in my mother, sir.

Maybe so.

So, good news.

The world is coming to its end.

- Better.
- Oh. Ow, shit!

Better than that?
The people are revolting.

- You...
- Yeah?

- Have been invited...
- Uh-huh?

To attend Harvard Law School.

Yeah.

Dad, you and I really gotta work
on your definition of good news.

Steven, this is great news.
You've already gone through pre-law.

Why not finish the process,
and in the best possible way?

That's so funny,
because, gosh, Father...

don't even remember applying
to Harvard Law.

- I applied for you.
- You mean you signed my name?

- Yeah.
- Hey, congratulations, old man!

Hope you enjoy your second tour
of Harvard Law School.

Steven, are you going
to walk around like this forever?

You went to school. You got
great grades. What else is there?

I cheated, Dad.
I cheated all through college.

Oh, that's right.
Yeah, you cheated. But why?

You obviously cared enough
about your grades to do well.

I know you, Steve.
You're just like me.

I'm like you, maybe,
but not completely.

Then why pre-law?
Why not liberal science?

Why go at all?

I studied law
'cause I wanted to learn...

how completely full of shit
your life's ambition was.

That's crazy.
You know that.

You know what I think it is?
I think you've become a fascist.

- A fascist?
- You're a Nazi.

I'm Jewish.
How can I be a Nazi?

That's the worst. Dad, look at this.
What kind of car is this?

This would be a Porsche.

A Porsche that you bought
at a Volkswagen dealership.

Volkswagen.

Right? For the people.
Who designed it?

Who made that possible?
Let me give you a hint. Adolf Hitler.

- It's just a car, okay?
- Absolutely.

I completely understand that point.

But it's a car that was built,
designed and created...

out of the blood and pain
of your people.

- Let me take you to lunch.
- Okay.

Hang on.

My dad wasn't all bad.
He just, you know, had no clue.

I liked to bust his balls.

What pissed me off, though, was,
he was right about one thing.

Why did I do so well in school?
I didn't want to.

I mean, I tried not to give a shit.

I knew they were just trying to mold me
into cannon fodder for their wars.

And I knew
that meaning lie elsewhere.

But somehow I studied,
and somehow I got the grades...

and now, somehow, I was accepted
to a fucking Ivy League school.

Last place on the planet
for a guy like me.

I mean, I wouldn't go there
unless it was to set it on fire.

Hey, what are you staring at?
Did you get a good picture?

Now, there was this issue
of a lifelong struggle with poverty...

which was beginning to cause
reflection to myself...

after I had run into someone
from my past a few days earlier.

You guys wouldn't happen to have
a dollar or a little somethin'?

Oh, shit. Sean!

- Yeah?
- Hey, it's me. Stevo.

- Bob!
- No, Stevo!

Stevo!
How you doing, man?

There you go.
You have no idea who I am, do you?

Remember?
High school. Mohawk.

Yeah, you had the fuckin' mohawk.

- Yeah. Punk!
- How are you doing?

Good. How are you doing?

- I heard they put you away.
- But they let me out. I'm a free man.

Oh, hey, this is Sandy.

Sandy, this is Sean.
Sean, this is Sandy.

- Hi.
- Hi. Nice to meet you.

- Likewise.
- So, what you been doing with yourself?

Oh, man,
I'm a fucking beggar now.

It fucking sucks.

- Wow. You should get a job.
- I tried that.

I fuckin' tried that. Okay?

I gotta go.

- Can I help you?
- Yeah. I called about the job.

- You called?
- Yeah. I wanna sell clothes.

Women's clothes.

I don't know.
Have you had experience?

- With what?
- Women's clothes.

What the fuck would I be doing
in women's clothes?

What do I look like, a transvestite?
I'm not no fuckin' transvestite!

No, no, no.
I mean, have you ever worked in retail?

You know, selling... clothes.

If I was selling clothes already,
what would I be doing here?

I really don't think this is the right
way to start a working relationship.

You got a real bad attitude, lady.
In fact, I don't even want your job.

I don't care how much you'd pay me,
'cause I got integrity.

In-fuckin'- tegrity!

It's, like, impossible.
It's, like, the hardest thing.

- There's nothing out there for me.
- That's really tough.

I'm a bum now.
That's what I do.

- Here, man.
- Oh, hey.

Thanks.

- What about your parents?
- My parents?

Oh, you mean my mom.
My mom is scared of me.

She won't even let me in the house.

It's not like I killed anybody
or hurt anybody, you know.

- It's just, she's scared.
- Yeah.

Hey, we gotta get outta here.

I couldn't even look at the guy.
I felt a pain in my stomach.

I didn't like it so I turned my back,
just like everybody else.

- I'll see you guys in the rebound.
- On the rebound.

Right.
On the rebound.

It really fucked me up.

Not Sean, but turning my back.

Ignoring the truth.

So what'd I do? I dropped acid
with Sandy in Highland Park...

as to further ignore the truth.

This shit is good. I got it from Trish.
Trish got it from Mark.

That's a weird couple...
Bob and Trish.

- Do you think they're in love?
- Don't know.

I'll have to ask them that.

- It's weird.
- What's that?

The park is so dead.

- This town is dead.
- It's what?

It's dead.
Dead, dead, dead, dead.

Maybe we're dead.

Wouldn't that be nice?

That's the canyon where the devil
worshipers go. You wanna check it out?

Look at the colors!

You know, before the...
You know, before the...

before the Mormons
settled this valley...

this is where
the Donner Party came through.

- The cannibals?
- Yeah, the cannibals. Two families.

The head of the one family was right.
He said, "We should go south.

We shouldn't go over the mountains.

We should go down around the Sierras
and get to California. "

They got in a fight, and this guy killed
one of the members of the Donner Party.

There was a raging battle.

They kicked him out. Outcast.
By himself, alone in the wilderness.

He did it. He went around the Sierras
to California by himself.

Alone in the wilderness,
to be by himself.

That guy came back
and saved the Donner Party's ass...

when they got snowed in.

Stevo! Come here!

Help me. I'm dying.

Feel me. Look.
I'm right here.

I'm right here.
Feel me.

Do you feel me?
That's it.

They just threw him out
for him to die.

They threw him out while they're
sitting there eating themselves...

I can see everything!

What the fuck is happening to me?

- No, I'm not.
- Yes, you're dying.

Why are you always dying?
Why is everyone dying?

I think the world will really end.

- Why do you say that?
- There's no place else for it to go.

You're right.
But when's it gonna end?

- That I can't tell you.
- No, that you must tell me.

I can't.

Come on, little cookie surprise.
Come with us!

- Please tell me.
- I can show you.

It's beautiful, right?

As beautiful as it can be...

I guess.

Beautiful like you.

- You wanna see something else beautiful?
- Sure.

Beauty's the end, Stevo.

The end.

The question lingered in my mind
about Bob and Trish... were they in love?

- So I thought I'd just ask outright.
- You guys in love?

- Who?
- You and Trish.

Oh. Uh, I don't know.

- I'll have to think about that.
- It's not really a thinking question.

Well, you know, I...

I worship her and all.
She's like a goddess.

If she died, I'd die.

If she told me to cut off my left arm,
I'd probably do it.

If she told me to lick a cop's asshole,
I'd probably do it.

All right, all right, I get it.

Yeah, I guess I love Trish.

It's weird, man.
I never thought I'd fall in love.

I was just wondering.

I always thought
you were a poser.

Why am I a poser?

Only posers fall in love with girls,
so you're a poser.

- Fine. I guess I'm a poser.
- That's what I just said.

I don't really think
you're a poser.

- I was just bustin' on you.
- I know, I know.

I didn't think
you thought I was.

Where were we going?
I mean, really, what was happening?

This life, it was crazy.
And I felt tired.

Halfway through the season,
inside I was so tired...

and I had this wave of melancholy...

just, like, sweep through me...

and this impending sense...

that my philosophies... anarchy...
was falling apart.

What do you do when your foundation
falls apart? I don't know.

They don't teach you that
in school.

Then there was this party
at Chris's.

Chris lived on the outskirts of town,
in suburbia, surrounded by Mormons.

His house was like a commune.
I told you about Chris earlier.

At that first party
he had that sister Jennifer, red hair.

Remember her?
Really sexy. Carnivore.

You remember, right?
This is Jen.

- Stevo, how you doing?
- Great. How you doin'?

Great. Great. I'm really doing...
I'm really doing well. Really.

- God, what are you on tonight?
- Nothing. That's exactly my point.

I stopped taking my medications,
and everything feels so much better.

Chris told me to stop taking them
'cause then I would believe in God...

and I would dissolve.

So I stopped,
'cause I'm really superstitious.

Everything is so much clearer
right now.

- Seriously. So pure.
- Right.

This is Jen,
looking a lot like Ophelia tonight.

Chris's house was like a commune.
All the regulars were there.

Freaky Deaky,
Bob was hanging out with Trish.

Then there was Mike. He was quiet
all night. Sat in the corner.

The whole party was weird.
This vibe was going on. Strange night.

Stevo, I see things clearly,
like my brother sees them.

- Where's your brother?
- Downstairs talking.

They talk all the time,
and it's so lame...

- I wanna go talk.
- No, no, no, no.

Definitely a hippie.

Hey. There you go.

I can't tell you
how good it is to see you.

My heart
has been so heavy, Stevo.

That's a mighty nice hookah.

I've been trying to get stoned,
but it won't happen.

I've been smoking
since I was born.

Why'd you tell Jennifer
to get off her medication?

She is completely out of her mind
when she's off her medication.

Isn't she beautiful?
Have you seen her gown?

That's my sister.
She's not a Lithium Barbie doll.

- She needs to be who she is.
- Yes.

And she should be.

- But who she is...
- Is evaporating.

I don't think
she knows who she is.

I think we're starting to talk
about pain here, Stevo.

A human being
must go through pain.

- What is Jones doing?
- Satanic bible.

I'm gonna prove there's no Satan.

He doesn't exist!

He's going to try to summon the beast
tonight at midnight.

He isn't going to come,
and when he doesn't come...

Jones will have proved
that science is the only truth.

- Have you met my other sister?
- There's a lightning storm coming.

I need to get a picture of it.
Hi, Stevo.

- That's my sister.
- Your whole family is a little strange.

Yes, but we are strange.

- Let's speak of anarchy.
- Yeah.

So we started our debate.
This was our custom.

He believed in structure,
I believed in chaos.

This was an ongoing fight.
He seemed to be winning.

Parties are like this in Salt Lake
for us punks.

The days would pass. There would be
a party, then a fight, then another day.

This was the cycle.
It was getting old, though.

I was feeling old.

Anyway, it was a weird night.

The school of science says the world
moves from order to disorder... chaos.

They're fools, Stevo.

You know, life goes from order
to disorder to order.

Atoms come together randomly
to form a structure.

- An infant is born...
- A child, yeah.

Exactly. It grows, it gets older,
it dies, it decomposes.

- Exactly.
- Back into chaos.

Exactly. Anarchy.

But then those atoms are reformed
into something else.

A blade of grass, a tree,
a flower, whatever... the cycle, man.

I got it.

The cycle, man.

Yeah, I get you.
The cycle.

The time is now!

I'm gonna go out
and I'm gonna prove...

that all your faith and all your prayers
are unfounded!

You comin'?

- Is he serious?
- He's always serious, Stevo.

I'm gonna go watch.
I'll see you later.

- I treasure these talks, Stevo.
- Not as much as I do.

We've got science to celebrate
and demons to dispel.

Off your butt, Pippy!

We're gonna go show that science
is the only truth!

- I think we're gonna cut.
- This makes me uncomfortable.

He shouldn't be playing
with something he doesn't know.

I don't blame you. I'll get a ride home
with Sandy. Have you guys seen her?

- I saw her in the back earlier.
- So did I.

All right, I'll see you later.

What?

What do you want?

It wasn't that I loved Sandy.
I knew that we had an understanding.

I discovered then that Chris was right...
all things had systems, even me.

I was about to beat the shit out of this
guy because he had invaded my territory.

It was my territory, no question
about it, just like in the wild.

I was following nature, nature was order
and order is the system.

- Shut the fuck up!
- Stop it! Stop it!

Get off me!
Get the fuck off me!

You're such a fuckin' pussy.
What the fuck did you do that for?

Fuck you.

In the name of Satan, ruler of the Earth
and king of the underworld...

I command the forces of darkness
to dispel their infernal...

Jones didn't need to prove
the devil did not exist...

not as a supernatural being...

because I had seen the devil.

He was in that room with Sandy. He was
me, Harvard, my mom and dad, all of us.

Jones was just making
all of this up anyway, so who cared?

"Fuck 'em," I thought.
"Fuck him, fuck this party...

and fuck everything.

Above all, fuck anarchy. "

I don't know,
we were, like, just kickin' it...

smokin' cigarettes and...

Trish had, like,
candy corn, dude, and...

We were just watching birds and shit
and I just started thinking...

Salt Lake
ain't that bad, you know.

You know what I'm sayin'?

I know it sucks and all...

but, you know,
this is, like, home, you know.

What the fuck
are you talking about?

All I'm saying is,
if you think about it...

no matter where you go
you gotta have a home...

and Salt Lake is, like,
home.

- This place is never gonna be my home.
- I'm just saying...

No, you said
what you were gonna say.

Get it?
Now you fuckin' listen.

Look at this fuckin' place.
It's a shit hole!

Look out there and tell me
what you see. Nothin'!

Nothin' piled upon
fucking nothin'.

It's like Jesus Christ took a shit
and it landed right here!

So you can be happy
all you fuckin' want. All right?

I used to think we were alike,
we were similar.

We had something together, like this.
We thought alike, we felt the same way.

But you...

Fuck you.

Grow up, Bobby.
Look around and grow up.

'Cause I swear to God, man,
I'll fuckin' write you off like that.

This is your home?
You know what? Fuck your home.

And this city was still the same. Just
look like it. There's nothing going on.

That's what I saw when I looked out
over the city... nothin'.

How the Mormon settlers
looked upon this valley...

and felt that it was the promised land
is beyond me.

Maybe it looked different
back then.

Look at this thing, this temple.

When I was 7 and we moved here,
Mom and Dad told me this was Disneyland.

Rightfully so. Been livin' with Mickey,
Donald and the whole crew since.

And now Mike, a good friend of mine,
was gettin' out.

What?

I'm leaving.
I'm going to Notre Dame.

- How could you do that?
- I'm 18. I gotta go to college.

Mike, I'm gonna miss you, man.
It's gonna suck around here without you.

- What's you major gonna be, dude?
- Botany.

- What's that?
- Plants.

You're gonna study plants.

I wanna save the rain forests.

Somebody's gotta fight for them.

Do you believe this guy?

He's going off to save the plants.

This guy was one of the most
hard-core sons of bitches I ever met...

and he's going off
to save the plants.

I remember this time
he was drunk...

and he got the idea in his head
that all the cars on his block...

would look better without windows.

Get down, bitch!

He took 'em all on.

They needed to call backup.

Finally they got him
in the back of a squad car.

The cops thought he was on angel dust...
"The only way you could do it. "

Not so.
It was just Mike.

He broke those goddamn handcuffs,
kicked the window out of the car, drunk.

That's it.
Never got caught either.

Story was all over the papers.

It took weeks for us to get him to admit
that it was him that had done it.

Now he's going off to hug a tree.

I kind of knew it was the end.

All that was left was Bob and me.

First two punks.

The last two punks.

Then again, I was getting the impression
I was all that was left.

Bob was in love.

Stevo, I want to introduce you
to a young friend of mine.

I think you'd like her.

Yeah?
Why do you think that?

I don't know.

She's smart...

and she's ambitious.

- I'm not ambitious.
- Not yet, dude.

I love you.
Bob loves you.

- What's the matter?
- Nothing.

Nothing's the matter.
I'm right as rain.

Why are you always depressed
all the time?

I'm not depressed.

I think Sandy really got you.

No.

You know, dude,
it's no big deal.

You're like my brother...

and I love you and all.

But what that fucking bitch did,
you should fucking kill her.

She had the right.

She had the right.
It was the agreement.

Should've been more careful.

That Stevo's got a big heart.

I don't have a big heart, Trish.

I have a heart
the size of a pea.

It's okay, though.
I mean, you guys are...

You guys are happy.
That's okay.

Please just don't pity me.

Hey, Bob, tell her
I get off on pain, please.

Yeah, he does, you know.

I've mellowed out a lot,
but Stevo's fuckin' hard-core.

Hard-core or not,
I think he should meet Brandy.

She's having a party
at her parents' next week.

Yeah!
She's a rich girl, dude.

That's okay.

I'm a rich boy, right?

Yeah, but you're
a cool rich boy.

I don't know about that
anymore, but...

Brandy.
That sounds kinda fun.

Yeah?

See?

Nothing.

Miles of nothing.
Just space.

You could fall in
and never come out.

So it came to this...

a blind date, my first.

What the hell. I didn't want to
let them down. They were good people.

The thing was, I didn't need a date.
I needed an answer.

The year was a waste, all right, but
not the kind of waste I was looking for.

Not a glorious wastefulness filled
with parties and fights and good sex.

No.

Instead...

it was more like the waste...

that is the salt flats.

What are we doing here?

It's his birthday, dude.

Oh, yeah?

How old is he?

I don't know.

I don't think he knows.

He's old, though.
I know that.

You wanna look presentable
for your old man.

Aren't you gonna wake him up?

I don't know.
What do you think?

I don't know, man.
It's your dad.

Yeah, I know. It's just, you know,
he's kinda crazy sometimes.

What do you mean?

I mean, he thinks
the CIA's after him and stuff.

What the hell do you want?

- What do you want with me?
- Dad, it's me.

It's Bob.

Your son.

Happy birthday.

How do you know it's my birthday?
You people know everything.

What the hell do you want?
I don't know anything.

Now you're in trouble.
This is my house, you dummies.

I was born here! I'm an American!
This is my piece of the pie!

I don't give a shit who sent ya.
I'm gonna blow your goddamn heads off.

Next time you'd better
bring back the army.

Goddamn CIA.

In all those years
I had never met Bob's dad...

but I suddenly felt
I knew my friend a lot better.

I felt bad for him.
I didn't like that feeling.

He's kind of a lunatic,
you know.

Yeah, I'll say.

Sorry.

Don't be.

It's not your fault.

You're my friend, that's all.

I'm sorry.

It was the last party of my youth
and I was to meet Brandy.

I'm gonna say it right here, people...
Brandy was the woman I was gonna marry.

I didn't know it then.
Didn't even know what she was like.

I wasn't even sure if I was gay,
asexual, a punk, a mod...

my dad, Bob, Sean the beggar.

I didn't know
a goddamn thing that night.

If I knew what was ahead of me,
I may have stayed in bed...

or I may have felt better
about that night.

Life is like that.
We change, that's all.

You see, the guy I am now
is not the guy I was then.

If the guy I was then
met the guy I am now...

he'd beat the shit out of me.

Those are the facts.

But still I lied awake.

Was I afraid?

Was I angry?

Or was it just the end?

Hmm?

Was it just the end
and I knew it?

On and on and on

Canadian Club, love

A place in the country

Everyone's ideal

But you are my favorita

And a place in your heart, dear
makes me feel more

Real

Oh, mother of pearl

I wouldn't change you
for the whole world

Stevo, this is Brandy.

Come on in, you guys.
Drinks in the back.

It was the hardest punch I ever took.
Knocked the wind right out of me.

I was hers.
That was it. One smile.

We got acquainted
as the party raged around us.

I have to ask you something.

Yeah, go ahead. Ask me.

Well, why do you go out of your way
to look like a bum?

I look like a bum?

Not in a bad way.

I look like a bum
in a good way.

Aren't you, like,
rebelling against society?

Put that simply, kinda, yeah.

Hey, Brandy!
What's goin' on?

- What are you doin' with this fucker?
- Just talking.

Shit!

See you later.

You were saying?

Wouldn't it be more
of an act of rebellion...

if you didn't spend so much time
buying blue hair dye...

and going out
to get punky clothes?

It seems so petty.

Stop me if I'm being offensive.

Oh, no, go right ahead.
It's... No, it's fine.

You wanna be an individual, right?

You look like you're wearing a uniform.
You look like a punk.

That's not rebellion.
That's fashion.

- Then what's rebellion?
- Rebellion happens in the mind.

You can't create it.
You just are that way.

Right.

How old are you?

I'm 19. What does that
have to do with anything?

Nothing. I was just...
I was just wondering.

What you're basically saying...

is that you wouldn't like a guy like me
because I have silly hair...

and I dress kinda funny, right?

No, not at all.

I like you, actually.

I mean, we just met.

This is my party,
and I'm hanging out with you all night.

Wear what you want.
I don't care about things like that.

I was just posing a theory...

and trying to understand.

So...

then you do like me.

Mildly.

What was I doing?
What was I, an asshole?

I was in love,
and I just met this person.

I hated her ideas
because they were critical of me...

but I loved her anyway.

It was a curse. No, it was a punishment.
I went with it. We talked all night.

You okay?

I got a headache.

I gotta go to the bathroom.

Bob! How goes it?

What's goin' on?

- I got a fuckin' headache.
- I have some pills for that.

This fuckin' music...
No, I don't take pills, dude.

- It's candy.
- They're just vitamins.

Headache in a bottle?

- What'd you do?
- I don't like the mirror.

What happened?

I don't like fucking mirrors!
All right?

- You're drunk, Bob.
- I'm sorry.

What did he do?

He gets crazy when he's drunk,
that's all.

- Everybody out.
- That's it. Party's over.

Out, out, out.

I'm sorry about that window.
I didn't mean to...

I'll buy you a new one.

- No, I'll tell them it was an accident.
- It's seven years bad luck.

No, it's seven years bad luck.
It's seven years bad luck!

All right, I'll take him home.
I'll get him out of here.

Where are we going?

Let's go.

All right, you guys.
Everything's cool.

- Can I call you tomorrow?
- No.

I mean, yeah.
That'd be cool.

Yeah, okay.

Good.

Sorry. I had a great time tonight.
I really did.

Me too.

Great time.
Great party.

Yeah.

How you feeling, buddy?

Dude, I'm not like my dad,
you know.

I'm not gonna cry, dude.
You know what I mean?

Fine. Don't cry.

You think I let him down?

- Think I let my dad down?
- No.

If anything, he let you down.

I wanna marry Trish.

I'm serious, dude.

Yeah, all right.

Come on!
Jesus Christ.

I swear to God,
you're like a high school girl.

Jesus Christ.

Good night, asshole.

Oh, Jesus Christ.

Bobby, get up.

Get up. It's, like, 3:00.
Let's get something to eat.

Oh, fuck.

God.

Fuckin' poser.

Only posers die, you fucking idiot!

Now what am I gonna do
for a friend?

You're my only friend!

Please wake up now!

Please! I'm sorry!

Oh, fuck.

Oh, man. Oh, jeez.

Oh, my God.

I wasn't ready for this.

I wasn't ready.

And we put him under the ground.

The official cause of death?

Overdose from Percodan.

That's what John's girlfriend
gave him for his headache.

That, mixed with the booze,
did him in.

Heroin Bob, the guy who never did
any drug in his life outside of beer...

died from a narcotic overdose.

And that was it.

He fell...

and I went on.

What else was I gonna do?

Bob got me into this whole punk-fashion
anarchy trip in the first place.

It hit me after the funeral.
It was always Bob.

Started way back when we were kids,
maybe 14.

We were such losers back then.

Those guys that sat alone
in the cafeteria...

getting shit from the jocks...

wishing to God they could be cool
for just, like, one minute.

Then one day Bob had had enough.

Being a dweeb was not
what he had in mind for our future.

- Hey, Bob. You're early.
- Dad was flipping out. I had to leave.

Mike and Eddie are coming, so it should
be a good game. I have a good dungeon.

Stevo, this D&D shit,
it sucks.

- What?
- It sucks.

But you're a seventh-level magic user.
It's going great for your character.

Stevo, it's bullshit, though.
"Magic user. " What the hell's that?

These elves and dwarves
and dragons, man.

- This music...
- Rush is a very good band.

Their music is very complex,
and the perfection...

I'm not saying they're not talented,
and, yeah, they rock...

but it's not the only music
out there.

- I've got a John Denver record.
- I'm serious.

Anyway, I like them.
They rock, man.

There's a whole world out there.
People are having fun.

We should be going to parties...

getting drunk, getting laid...

being wild.

The last time we went to a party
we got our asses kicked.

Maybe we should have
our own parties.

- How about we turn this off...
- Don't touch my stereo, Bob.

Give me a chance.

- Got this from a guy I know in L.A.
- You know a guy in L.A.?

Shh!

You tell me
if this doesn't rock.

This isn't anything.

Just give it a chance.

What is it?

- What is it?
- Yeah, what is it, Bob?

It's new.

Okay.

So there I was.

I was gonna go to Harvard.
It was obvious.

I was gonna be a lawyer
and play in the goddamn system.

That was that.

I was my old man.
He knew.

So what else could I do?
I mean, there's no future in anarchy.

But when I was into it
there was never a thought of the future.

We were certain the world was gonna end.
When it didn't, I had to do something.

So fuck it.

I could be a litigator in New York
and piss the shit out of the judges.

I mean, that was me...
a troublemaker, the future...

one of those guys my parents
so arrogantly saved the world for...

so we could fuck it up.

I could do a hell of a lot more damage
in the system than outside of it.

That was the final irony, I think.

That and, well, this.

And fuck you
if you're already thinking it.

When all was said and done...

I was nothing more
than a goddamn trendy-ass poser.

Efficiency and progress

Is ours once more

Now that we have the neutron bomb

It's nice and quick and clean

And gets things done

Away with excess enemy

But no less value to property

No sense in war

But perfect sense

At home

The sun beams down on a brand-new day

No more welfare tax to pay

Unsightly slums
gone up in flashing light

Jobless millions whisked away

At last we have more room to play

All systems go
to kill the poor tonight

Gonna kill, kill, kill, kill
Kill the poor

Kill the poor tonight

Behold the sparkle of champagne

The crime rate's gone
Feel free again

Oh, life's a dream with you
Miss Lily White

Jane Fonda on the screen today

Convinced the liberals it's okay

So let's get dressed
and dance away the night

While they kill, kill, kill, kill
Kill the poor

Kill the poor tonight

Kill, kill, kill, kill
Kill the poor

Kill the poor tonight

Behold the sparkle of champagne

The crime rate's gone
Feel free again

Oh, life's a dream with you
Miss Lily White

Jane Fonda on the screen today

Convinced the liberals it's okay

So let's get dressed
and dance away the night

While they kill, kill, kill, kill
Kill the poor

Kill the poor tonight

Kill, kill, kill, kill
Kill the poor

Kill the poor tonight

Kill, kill, kill, kill
Kill the poor

Kill the poor tonight